Tumblr Requests
by elvenviking
Summary: This is where I'm posting the requests I get on Tumblr.
1. AusHun

The train had been ten minutes from pulling out of the station before a final person hurried on, her hair wild and tangled from the wind and rain outside. She bustled awkwardly to her seat, struggling to carry her large bag.

Roderich noticed that every other seat in the compartment was taken, except for the one next to his. For a moment, he felt sick to his stomach. No doubt the woman would be incredibly annoying. Not only had she almost delayed the train's departure, but she had hit multiple people with her bag as she walked to her seat.

When she finally sat down and shoved her bag under the seat she had slumped down and let out a loud sigh.

Roderich scoffed. "Annoying."

"Excuse me?" The woman asked, immediately sitting up.

"I called you annoying." Roderich answered, scooting away from her the best he could.

"I noticed." She said, looking him up and down. "I think you should apologize. It was uncalled for."

"I think you should apologize for almost delaying the train and making a show of your arrival."

"I didn't almost delay the train. It would have left without me. And secondly, I can't control how heavy my bag is. Corpses are heavy, dude."

"W-What?!" Roderich gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth.

The woman smiled, letting out a giggle. "I'm just messing with ya. Its art supplies. I didn't realize how heavy they'd be. Just wanted to make one trip. Anyway, I'm Elizaveta. Nice to meet ya."

Roderich swallowed, holding back the urge to call Ludwig. "I'm Roderich. And you're still annoying."

"Yeah, well, guess that can't be helped."


	2. DenBela

At every wedding Magnus had attended, which had been quite a few, there was always a "Singles Table". The Singles Table was where every single person that had been invited were crowded, in the hopes that somehow love would blossom. The idea itself was sweet, and a bit dumb. But mostly, it was offensive. Getting into a serious relationship took time, dedication! Magnus would get there one day. When he actually took time out of his day to start a relationship. Of course, he had tried before, but Børre had been less than pleased when Magnus had tried to romance his baby brother. How he had thought that had been a good idea, now that he thought about it, he had absolutely no idea. But since then, after getting the shit beat out of him, being in a relationship had been less than appealing.

As soon as he had sat down at the table with his drink, he noticed that Børre was laughing at him. Bastard had just gotten married, and now he was trying to set him up with someone. Magnus glared at him, but only got another round of laughter in return.

He had sat at the table by himself for a good ten minutes before another one of the singles who had been crowded at the table sat down.

"Embarrassing, isn't it?" He asked, resting his chin in his palm.

The girl snorted. "Extremely. I swear, that man gets off on the humiliation of others."

"Yeah, he's a dick."

She rolled her eyes. "Was there every any doubt?"

Magnus smiled. "Not really. What's your name?"

"Natayla." She picked up the folded card on the table. "It's right here, idiot."

Magnus glanced down to his own name card. "Yeah…Right…"

"What's yours?" Natayla asked.

"Magnus. It's right here, idiot."

"I will shit in the mouth of your firstborn child."

"Hot."


	3. NorMon

"Why do you like blue so much?"

Astrid continued flipping through the clothing that hung on the rack. "Reminds me of the ocean." She said, her eyebrows knitting together. "The sky. Brings back some nice memories." She pulled a shirt from the rack and held it up, giving a short sigh and putting it back when Cécile shook her head. "Why do you like pink so much?"

"Pink is a vibrant color." Cécile answered, adjusting the clothes that she had draped over her arm. "It's noticeable, pretty. I think it looks good on me, and I think it matches my personality. Blue is solemn. Boring."

"Blue is nice. And it can be bright." Astrid held up a sky blue shirt, huffing when Cécile gave a look of distaste. "By calling blue boring, you're calling me boring."

"Maybe you are."

"Rude."


	4. SuFin

He could handle pranks. A lie that Berwald told himself. He could see out of his two year old prescription glasses. Another lie that Berwald told himself.

Magnus was a shithead. That was not a lie. That was fact.

After getting into another petty fight, Magnus had decided that hiding Berwald's glasses was the best course of action. He knew that without them, Berwald couldn't see shit. And he knew that Berwald didn't have contacts, so Berwald wasn't going to be able to see shit. No matter what he did.

Of course, Berwald was left pissed, but he was also left blind, so at the moment, there was nothing he could do about it.

He thought about calling in sick to work, but Børre wasn't an idiot and could tell whether or not the Swede was lying.

The only choice he had for the rest of the day was to tread carefully. Literally.

At first it didn't seem that bad. He saw well enough to differentiate between a car and a person. Or so he thought.

When he had to cross the road, one would think that he knew that that was a stupid idea, and that he knew he was going to get himself killed.

But he was a stubborn man. Or more so, an idiot.

He was only two steps out onto the road when he was sent flying to the ground.

In his 'holy fuck I've been hit by a car' stupor, he heard screaming, a car honking, and crying.

"Oh my god I just hit him with my car oh my god oh my GOD-"

"Sir, just calm down. The ambulance is gonna be here soon. It'll be okay."

"He's bleeding from his face!"

"It's a very small cut."

"Oh my god I killed him!"

"He's still very much alive. He just has a small concussion."

And at that moment, Berwald suddenly saw clearly. He could see an angelic face of, well, an angel. A halo of light surrounded the angel, giving the whole situation a really heavenly vibe.

"HE'S DEAD!" The angel suddenly started screaming that he was dead, which was kinda weird, because no one was dead. "OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO JAIL! I KILLED A HOT GUY! I KILLED SOMEONE WHO'S PROBABLY A PORN STAR! OH GOD."


	5. GerBel

"She really cared about you, you know." Lars said, his voice quiet.

"Yes." Ludwig whispered, breathing in deeply. "Yes, I know."

"She missed you terribly after you left. She wondered why you never tried to talk to her. You know…she sent you letters, because you wouldn't answer any phone calls."

Ludwig felt his heart stop.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"…If you…If you wouldn't mind."

He waited until the crunching of the snow under Lars' boots faded away, before he fell to his knees. It had been years since he had seen her, so many goddamn years, and still, she drove him insane.

Hot tears fell onto the snow, and his breath fogged the air.

* * *

_"Do you ever wonder what happens after we die?" Anri asked, swinging her legs back and forth. _

_"We go to Heaven. That's what Gilbert told me." Ludwig noticed how close their hands were. If he reached over an inch, they'd be holding hands. _

_"I wonder if Heaven's as nice as people say it is. Hopefully my mom is happy up there, with all of the pretty angels."_

_"I'm sure she is." _

_"My dad says it doesn't exist." Anri said quietly. "Heaven. He says that mom is gone, and that's all there is. That there isn't nothing after death." _

_"Then he's an idiot. Heaven does exist."_

* * *

It had been ten years since he had last seen her, after the first year of high school.

Then he had moved away.

For some goddamn reason, he had convinced himself that losing contact with her was the best thing to do. That she could do much better than him.

He was a fool.


	6. IceLat

Raivis liked to sit outside and read during lunch. It was a way to escape the chaos that went down inside the building during the day, and be able to relax. No one ever noticed that he left, so it was a nice getaway, all by himself, with no one to bother him.

There was a large oak tree that sat in the courtyard that provided a cool shade and a comfortable sitting spot. Every day he would lean against the bark with a few books sitting beside him, a single book sitting in his lap, and drink in the silence as he read.

But all good things must come to an end, it seemed. On that particular day, someone else sat under the shade of the large oak tree, ruining the blissful peace and quiet that he had come to love. He was about to turn and walk off when he noticed exactly who was sitting under the tree.

Egill Hermannsson.

It seemed that his day was only getting worse.

Ever since he had first transferred to the school, he had had a crush on Egill like no other. Egill was one of the more popular students, and had been kind to him since day one. It hadn't been long before he had gained a crush on the Icelandic boy.

Life hated Raivis. Life hated him so much.

He wanted to turn and walk away, he wanted to leave, but his legs moved of their own accord, and soon he was sitting in his normal spot, not far from where Egill was sitting.

"This is your tree, huh?"

Raivis opened his book, not daring to look at the Icelandic boy.

"It's nice. I can see why you sit out here every day."

He heard Egill stand up, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the boy sit down next to him. There was a few seconds of silence between the two before Egill spoke again.

"Your book."  
"What…what about it?"  
"It's upside down."

Raivis cringed as he flipped the book right-side up, his face turning bright red. No doubt that Egill thought he was an idiot.

"What are you reading?" Egill asked, moving closer to the Latvian. At that, Raivis' face turned an even darker shade of red.

"Cilvēka bērns. My…my grandmother gave it to me." He traced his thumb along the page, letting out a tiny sigh.

"May I see it?"

He handed the book to Egill and bit his lip as he watched Egill flip through the pages. Egill stopped at one page, his face scrunching up in confusion as he tried to read it.

"I can't understand a single word of it." He said, handing the book back to Raivis.

"It's in Latvian. I wouldn't expect you to be able understand it."

Egill leaned against the tree, his gaze going from Raivis to the school building. "Read it to me then."

"W-what?"

"Read it to me."


	7. LietPol

"Have you been eating enough?" Feliks asked.

"All that I can."

"Have you been able to get up?"

"Just barely. But…I think it's getting easier."

"Are you getting enough sleep?"

"More than enough, most likely."

There was a second of silence. The heart monitor gave a single beep.

"How much longer did they say you have?"

"A few months. But I think they're wrong."

Feliks laughed. "You look like hell."

"Are you telling me to give up?"

"I'm telling you that you look like hell."

Another beep.

"I don't want to die, Feliks. I want to live."

"You're going to."

"I hope so."

* * *

"I only have a month."

"I thought you said that you want to live."

"I do want to live, Feliks. But you and I both know that I'm not going to."

"Then why are you still trying to live, if you know you're going to die? Why keep fighting when you know how your story ends?"

"I don't know. Why do _you_ keep fighting when you know you're going to die one day?"

"I…I don't know."

The heart monitor gave a single beep.

"I love you."

"You say that like you're dying today."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

"It's been three hours, Mr. Łukasiewicz. We need to give the room to another patient. I'm sorry, but you need to leave."

"Yeah. Whatever."

The heart monitor did not beep.


	8. NorIce

He had been waiting twenty minutes for his date's arrival, standing by the staircase that led down into the ballroom. He knew that it was useless to wait, because it was painfully obvious that they weren't coming. That he had been stood up yet again. He checked his watch for the tenth time that night, only to sigh and shove his hands back into his pockets. No doubt when he called them the next morning they would give him the same bullshit excuse they always did.

It was ridiculous, how he thought that staying with them, no matter how many times they hurt him, was ideal. It was ridiculous how he knew that they didn't care about him, but yet he still stayed.

He leaned against the wall, cursing at how stupid he was. He stared up at the staircase, as if his date would somehow magically appear.

"Is everything alright?"

His gaze went from the staircase to the man who had asked the question. He wore a gold and black mask, but Egill could still see the hint of amusement in the man's sharp, blue eyes.

"Everything is fine." He answered, rolling his eyes. "Everything is perfectly fine."

"Your tone suggests otherwise."

"Alright, you got me." He gave a bitter laugh. "Everything isn't fine. Are you happy now?"

The man tilted his head to the side. "No." He said, taking a step forward. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I got stood up. Now leave me alone so I can sulk in peace."

But the man didn't leave him alone; instead, he took another step forward so that he was standing right in front of Egill, able to look down on him.

The Icelandic boy felt his breath catch in his throat, and his heart seemed to stop.

"This isn't the first time?" The man asked; thumb brushing along Egill's cheek.

"N-no…"

The man then stepped away from him, acting as if he hadn't just practically pinned Egill to the wall.

"Dance with me?" He asked, reaching out his hand.

Egill cursed himself for taking it.


	9. NorSpa

Antonio could barely remember how he had gotten into this position, sprawled out on his literature teacher's bed, the teacher himself biting and sucking at his neck and shoulder. But from what he could register at the moment, it had started when he had asked Mr. Thomassen what he could do to bring up his grade.

And somehow he had ended up here. Not that he was complaining.

He let out a small moan when he felt a tongue flick over one of his nipples. When he felt the man start to suck on it, he slapped a hand over his mouth to cover up the load moan.

"I want to hear you." Mr. Thomassen said as he sat up, rocking his hips against Antonio's. "No one else is going to hear you. It's just us."

"Y-you're sure?"

"Positive."

And for the next hour, Antonio lost the ability to think.

* * *

The next day Antonio had to borrow one of his sisters many scarves, knowing full well that Gilbert and Francis would demand to know who had left the countless marks on his neck, and that he would have no idea how to answer.

Walking into Mr. Thomassen's class had been terrifying. He couldn't help but feel scared that somehow he or his teacher would let it slip what had happened the night earlier.

But Mr. Thomassen hadn't looked at him once.

Not until the class had ended did Mr. Thomassen look at him.

"We aren't going to do that again. You have your grade. If you want to raise it anymore, you have to do actual work. Are we clear?"

Antonio felt his cheeks heat up. "Y-yeah. Clear."

He turned to step out of the classroom, only to have his ass slapped.

His cheeks turned an even darker shade of red as he trudged down the hallway to where Gilbert waited for him.


	10. AusMon

"How many glasses did you have?" Jett asks, trying to keep a stern expression on his face, but ultimately failing. He would never say it out loud, but watching Cécile when she was drunk was hilarious. It only took a few drinks for her to let down that stern exterior that she rarely ever let falter.

"N-not…not that many…" She lets out a loud laugh, knocking over a glass that sat beside her. "Actual-ly, I think…I think I had…what's two plus two?"

"Four." He answers, holding up four fingers for her to see.

"Seven!" She shouts, slamming her fist on the table, shaking her web-cam. "It's seven!"

"Alright, seven." Jett shakes his head, laughing. "So you drank seven?"

"No, I drank four."

"Four. Alright. Sorry for saying seven."

"It's-It's fine."

"Do you need me to come over?" Jett asks.

"You're…you're in Australia. How the h-hell you going to come here?"

"I could jump on the back of a kangaroo and have him bring me."

Cécile laughs, burying her face in her hands. "Y-you're so dumb...you idiot…"

"Yeah, but I'm your idiot, you drunk."


	11. LietPol 2

"Do you have any more bruises?" The usual tone of happiness in Feliks' voice is gone, replaced with a seriousness that Toris has rarely ever heard him use.

"No. He was at work last night." Toris says, having to stop himself from rubbing at the bruises and cuts left from the night before. Felks notices, and lets out a small sigh.

"Want me to take you to the nurse?"

"No!"

Feliks jumps at Toris' tone. For a second they stare at each other, before Toris swallows.

"N-No…I'll be fine."

"You need to tell someone, Tor. You can't keep letting him do this to you! It's not fair!"

Toris can feel tears welling up in his eyes, and he hates it. He hates how weak he is. He hates his father, he hates his life.

He hates it.

"They won't believe me…and they'll just tell him what I said…" He sighs, giving a small shake of his head. "Please…you can't tell anyone."

"Alright." Feliks says, huffing. "I won't."

"You promise?"

"Yeah. I promise."

And he hopes that Toris won't hate him when he does.


	12. SuFin 2

He could not handle the blood that now pooled on the floor from the corpse that was once his husband.

It had started out as a small fight, but somehow it had escalated until they were screaming, throwing things. And then he had picked up the scissors.

The rest was a scattered puzzle that was slowly piecing itself back together.

Blood was splattered across his face, it covered his hands, stained his clothing.

He still gripped the blood covered scissors in his hand, the blades cutting into his palm, sending waves of stinging pain through his hand. He opened his hand, letting the scissors fall to the floor, and slowly he stood up, walking to the pantry to retrieve the mop and bucket.

"Papa?" Peter called from his bedroom. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, dear." Tino replied. "Stay in your room for a couple hours, okay?"

There was a moment of silence, before Peter shouted back an 'okay'.

Berwald would wake up in a few hours, Tino convinced himself, as he filled the bucket up with water from the faucet.

Berwald would wake up, and he would laugh it off, Tino told himself as he mopped up the blood.

It wouldn't be long.


	13. DenIce

"You're late." Iceland said from the couch, loudly flipping to the next page of his book, knowing that it would make Denmark cringe in pain. "You said you'd be home at five." He set his book down in his lap. "It's twelve. Care to tell me why it took you seven hours to get home?"

"Got…Got caught up…at the b-bar." Denmark's mind was a mess, and every thought was hard to process.

He could barely remember anything that had happened before he had gotten home. It was all a blur.

"And how exactly did you get caught up?" There was no use in trying to hold back the venom in his tone.

Denmark collapsed on the couch, trying to hold back the throbbing pain that shot through his skull. "I c-can't…remember…"

Iceland huffed, rolling his eyes. "Come here, you big oaf." He threw his book onto the floor, holding his arms open.

Denmark crawled over to him, letting his head rest in the crook of Iceland's shoulder. He felt Iceland run a hand up and down his back, before tangling in his hair, twirling locks of it around in his fingers.

"Can you remember anything?" Iceland asked quietly, sighing when he felt Denmark's hot breath hit his neck.

"Y-yeah…I thin-think so…" He wrapped his arms tighter around Iceland's waist, not wanting the boy to let go.

"Will you tell me?"

Denmark paused, his wrecked train of thoughts coming to a halt. The tiny bits and pieces that he could remember played out in his head, and he knew that if he told Iceland, this would be the last night of them being together.

He pressed a kiss to Iceland's neck and shook his head. Iceland would understand…right?

For some time, Iceland was silent. Denmark could feel the boy's chest rise and fall slowly, and he could hear his steady heartbeat. And then all of a sudden, it picked up speed.

"Did it happen again?"

Denmark felt his stomach drop.

"Y-yeah…"  
"You promised it wouldn't happen again."  
"I told h-him not to…"  
"Did he force you?"  
"No."  
"Did you agree to it?"

The silence Denmark gave him was the answer.

"Get off of me."

Denmark felt Iceland shift, before the boy shoved him off, sending him to the other side of the couch.

"I'm going home." Iceland whispered, his voice cracking.

"Ice…" Denmark sat up, vision suddenly going blurry. Whether it was from tears or from the alcohol, he couldn't tell.

He watched as Iceland stomped up the stairs to their shared bedroom.

A minute later, he heard the door slam.

* * *

"What do you want?"

It had been two months since Iceland had allowed Denmark to see him.

Two months since Denmark had fucked up. One month to wallow in self-pity, and another to realize he had been the one to fuck up and that self-pity was useless.

"I know you're probably going to say no if I ask for you to take me back, so I'm not going to ask that. I know you're probably going to say no if I ask for your forgiveness, so I won't ask that either." He shifted from foot to foot, feeling small under Iceland's gaze, even though he towered over the boy. "So…I just wanna say…I'm sorry. I know I messed up, and I know you hate me. I hate me too, not that-that I'm trying to guilt trip ya or anythin'. I just-I'm-dammit, Ice. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

For a while, Iceland stared at him, his expression unreadable.

"It happened twice, Den. How am I supposed to think that you won't do it a third time, or a fourth time?"

"I don't…I don't know."

"I love you, Denmark, but until I know you're actually in this one-hundred percent, I can't be with you."

"I…I understand. I love you, Ice."

Iceland let out a sigh, before closing the door.


End file.
